Tangential Planes
by M. Marchand
Summary: Don loses touch with his brother despite promising he'd never do it again and misses out on a family emergency as a result.
1. Chapter 1

Acknowledgements:  
Omi as always  
Beta Kim who, despite never writing any fan fic before, contributed a  
crucial passage in Chapter 1  
Beta Kevlar for surviving an ellipses induced coma to beta this fic for me  
Betas Mel and Dana (twin spitfires!) for their neverending support  
A special thank you to Beta Cyn for working her magic on my opening  
chapter as she did with Don at the Bridge  
All the BTN8rs who participated in the Open Beta for this fic - Thank you!

Disclaimers:  
"A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend" - Willow, Buffy the Vampire Slayer  
I do not own the characters Charlie, Don, Alan, Larry or Terry nor do I  
have any rights to anything related to the TV show Numb3rs. I plead fair  
use and claim only my own writing and characters.

* * *

Chapter One:

Thursday Morning

"Final boarding for Delta Flight 448 for Burbank, California."

Don was running late for his flight but made it just in time. Everything about this trip was running late. The off-site visit hosted by the Office of Protective Research ran late, the OPR dinner meeting ran late, the last minute Office of Homeland Security briefing ran late into the night and now Don had almost missed his flight home as a result of his cab running late in traffic. His eight days in the nation's capital had been a whirlwind of leadership training and new technology seminars at Quantico, vendor visits to experience those new technologies first hand, endless briefings and back-to-back meetings. Don hadn't had a free hour since he'd arrived and was looking forward to catching up on his sleep when he returned.

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen and welcome to Delta flight 448 from Washington D.C. Dulles Airport to Burbank Airport in Southern California. Your pilot today is Captain Jackson Weber and our flight time will be approximately 5 hours and 10 minutes. We hope you enjoy your flight and we thank you for flying Delta Air Lines!"

The flight attendant's voice was artificially cheery and annoyingly high-pitched. Don was grateful when she finally stopped talking. He closed his eyes and hoped he could get some rest once they were in the air.

After several hours of fitful sleep, Don got tired of being woken up repeatedly by noise from the other passengers and pulled out his laptop. Luckily, the plane was a newer one and offered in-flight wireless Internet access. With all his last minute phone calls, Don hadn't had a chance in the cab to check his voicemail, but he could at least catch up on his email. Being off-site all day yesterday he'd pretty much ignored his cell phone. Everyone at the L.A. office knew he wasn't available during this trip. His caller ID had shown that the only people who'd called his cell had been his father and Edwin Moses, the coach of the FBI baseball team that Don had recently joined. He figured both could wait until he got back.

Don booted up his laptop and connected to the network. He closed his eyes again for a few minutes while his email downloaded. Not only had this trip been draining, he'd had to work a lot of extra hours getting his team ready for him to be gone for over a week. Terry was a capable lieutenant and he was confident she could handle the team in his absence, but there wasn't time to get her up to speed on all the paperwork ahead of time and hand over his current cases to her. So he'd just done the paperwork himself, even though it meant weeks of late nights and a drastic reduction in his social life.

A quick glance at his work email told him things were running smoothly. He opened up a web browser to check his personal email account next. He was happy to see a reply from his old college baseball teammate, Alex Abuto, and opened that up immediately.

"Hey Eppes!

Man, it's good to hear from you! Been a long time. Congrats on joining the FBI team! You really are going to be a ringer for them!

Yeah, let's hook up at the batting cages. Great idea. I could use a little swing time now that I'm getting older. Dying to see how you solved your low and outside problem...

By the way, I read about Charlie in the L.A. Times Local section this morning. Hope it's nothing serious and that he's okay.

Anyway, let me know what weekend works for you for batting practice and I'll be there, okay?

Give my best to your Dad and tell Charlie to get well soon...

-Alex"

Don sat and stared at the email. Charlie? In the Times? Don was used to his brother being in the media for his academic achievements but Alex's email... Don felt a little chill wondering what he could be talking about.

Don brought up the L.A. Times web site but found that the online version of the Local section was only available to subscribers. He stopped a flight attendant to ask if they had newspapers, but they only had that day's Washington Post. Don's initial agitation was quickly turning into alarm. He needed to know what was going on. He got out of his seat and walked the aisles asking anyone who was reading a newspaper if it was the Los Angeles Times. He finally found a man reading the L.A. Times Sports section near the back of the plane. Don could tell by the game they were reporting on the front page that it was that morning's edition.

"Sir, I hate to bother you but if there's any way you could let me see the Local section of the paper. There's something in it I really need to see right away."

The man fished the section out of the stack of papers and handed it to him. "Keep it. I'm done with it."

"Thanks," Don barely managed to say as he strode back to his seat already scanning the front page for any signs of his brother's name. Don noticed the 'Inside Local' page number references and began to read through the half dozen titles there. He froze when he saw the third item listed.

'Local Math Genius Collapses at Conference'

Don felt like the plane had just dropped out from under him. Hands shaking, he sat back down in his seat and quickly turned to the page listed, almost tearing the fragile newsprint in his rush to read the article. When he got to the page, his eyes found the headline immediately. The subheadline stole the breath from his lungs.

"Cal Sci Professor Dr. Charles Eppes Hospitalized"

A feeling of panic swept over Don as he read the article as fast as he could, rapidly skimming the important phrases.

Wednesday morning... National Council of Teachers of Mathematics Conference... While giving a speech... Dr. Eppes collapsed and was taken to nearby Huntington Memorial Hospital... No word on his condition...

Don's head reeled and he was shaken to the core. How could this happen? How could he not know? Don knew he'd been avoiding his father's calls lately, but this? It seemed inconceivable that the Times could know more about his little brother than he did. A deep-seated guilt rose up in him; Don had told himself he'd never again allow the distance to creep in between him and his brother, like it had before he'd moved back home from New Mexico. But here, in his hands, was proof it had. Don had been so disconnected from his brother, from his family even, that an emergency of this magnitude had failed to reach him even after a whole day had passed.

The article went on to provide more biographical background on Charlie but Don didn't need any of that. What he needed was more information about what happened to him.

He used one of the airplane phones to call the house but his father didn't answer. He tried his father's cell phone, every number he had for Larry and Amita, even Charlie's office and cell phone hoping Amita might pick up there. Nothing. He finally called Terry. After getting her voicemail on her desk phone, he called her cell.

"Lake!"

"Thank god, Terry, it's Don. I need a favor."

"Sorry Don, can't do it right now. I'm on surveillance and my target is just heading out. I'll call you back later."

She hung up and Don almost slammed down the phone in frustration.

He finally called his own voicemail and listened to the messages his father had left him.

"Donnie, it's Dad. Listen I'm in the car on my way to Huntington Memorial. Larry just called to tell me something's wrong with Charlie. Call me back!"

"Donnie, I'm at the hospital with Charlie. I had to turn off my cell phone, hospital rules. So if you tried calling me while it was off and didn't leave a message well, call me again and leave me a message letting me know how quickly you can get back from D.C."

"Don, I've been calling your cell all day but lately I've just been getting a message saying you're off the network. I'm not sure where you are but your little brother's in the hospital and we need you here."

"Don, I called your office and they said they called Quantico to give you the message. I still have no messages from you so I'm not sure what's going on. Call me!"

When the messages were over, Don hung up the phone and put his head in his hands, pressing his palms into his temples as if to squeeze the sound of his father's voice out of his head. Each progressive message had been more frantic, and he could hear first the anxiety, then the disappointment, and then the anger in his father's voice as he realized Don wasn't returning his calls.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Southern California and should be touching down in Burbank in twenty minutes."

Those twenty minutes felt like an eternity to Don.

He needed to see his brother and he needed to see him now.


	2. Chapter 2

Tangential Planes 2/9

* * *

Chapter Two:

Thursday Afternoon

Don rushed up to the main hospital information desk. "I need the room number for Charles Eppes, now."

"And you are?" the woman behind the counter asked as she brought up the patient census on her computer screen.

Don flashed his FBI badge at her. "A man with no patience for protocol."

"Room 206."

Not wanting to wait for the elevators, Don ran for the stairwell and stopped the first person he saw on the second floor. "Where's Room 206?"

He took off in the direction they pointed and found the room almost at the end of the hall.

Breathing hard, Don stopped in front of the door, suddenly afraid to open it, afraid of what he might find.

His hand rested on the doorknob for just a second before he opened it and looked inside. He stood there, unmoving, staring at his brother in the bed in front of him.

Charlie appeared to be sleeping but was so unnaturally still and pale that he could have been a corpse. His arms, stone white and delicate, resting on the blanket seemed so much more frail than Don remembered. He wondered how his brother had managed to waste away in front of his very eyes.

Larry, who'd been sitting next to Charlie's bed, rose to greet him.

"Don, I'm so glad you're here," Larry said softly. "Your father's been trying to reach you since yesterday."

Don couldn't take his eyes off Charlie. "How is he?" he asked nervously.

"He'll be fine, Don, really. He's just resting right now."

Don finally turned his attention to Larry, walking into the room and shutting the door behind him. "What happened? What's wrong with him? Where's my father?"

Larry put up his hands to ward off more questions. "Easy, Don. I'd be happy to answer all of your questions, just one at a time. Your brother collapsed towards the end of a presentation he was making at a conference yesterday morning. I was with him and called 911 since I didn't know what was wrong. I thought perhaps he'd just fainted from the heat of the auditorium lights but the doctor who examined him said he was suffering from exhaustion. It seems your brother has been overworking himself again, only this time to the extreme. Your father has been here pretty much since Charlie was brought in, but he's off talking to Charlie's doctor right now and should be back shortly."

"He's going to be okay?" Don asked, approaching the bed.

"Yes, of course, Don. He just needs to rest and take it easy for a while. They'll probably release him tomorrow so he can recuperate the rest of the way at home."

"Is he ready for that so soon?" Don frowned.

"Well, they've been treating him for an electrolyte imbalance and feeding him intravenously to address the dehydration and malnutrition, but your father was told that if all goes well with putting him back on solid food this evening then, yes, he can recover just as well at home."

Don was having trouble comprehending how the doctors could even be considering sending him home. Charlie barely looked well enough to be alive, much less ready to be released.

Don shook his head in disbelief. "Larry, how could this happen? I mean, I know I've been busy lately but look at him! You or my father had to have noticed at least."

Larry shook his head sadly, his expression a mix of regret and frustration. "Noticing is one thing, Don. Being able to stop it..." He looked down at his young friend and sighed. "That's a different story. All I know is he's been working on a project for about six weeks now that has to be classified at the highest levels."

Don recoiled slightly in surprise. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, normally Charles can't stop talking about his work. Even when I'm not allowed to know the details of a project, as often happens when he works for the FBI, he usually finds some way to couch the problem he wants my advice on in vague enough terms to get around the issue of confidentiality."

"And he's been doing that lately?"

"No, actually he refuses to even admit he's working on a project. He denies he's doing anything other than normal work related equations. But I happened to notice the one hitch in his story."

"Which is?"

"His boards. They're all empty, Don. When have you known your brother to not have some equations he's working on up on a blackboard or a whiteboard? Amita's been following him around with Do Not Erase signs for years but lately they've all been empty. Every last one. Don, that's akin to you not carrying your badge and gun at work. It's part of who you are and that doesn't change all of a sudden."

"So he's not working on the boards at all?"

"No, just his laptop. Actually, it was the first thing he asked about when he woke up according to Alan."

"Really?" Don huffed. "Must be some project."

"The second thing he asked about was his brother," Larry said softly. "So, yes, I'd say that whatever he's working on is of global, or at least national, significance."

Don eased into the chair next to Charlie's bed and rubbed his tired eyes.

Larry patted him on the shoulder and headed for the door. "I'll leave you two alone for now."


	3. Chapter 3

Tangential Planes 3/9

* * *

Chapter Three:

Previous Wednesday Morning

Larry locked his car door and waited for Charlie to finish juggling all the paraphernalia he was bringing to the conference.

"Charles, I can carry some of this for you, you know. Here, at least let me take your laptop for you," Larry offered.

"No!" Charlie said a little too harshly, then immediately apologized. "I'm sorry. It's just... You could carry my notes and handouts for me, okay? That would help. Thanks."

As they walked into the conference facility, it seemed to Larry that Charlie appeared a little unsteady on his feet.

"Feeling all right, Charles?"

"Fine. I'm fine." Charlie's tone was a bit abrupt but Larry let it slide.

They were shown in to the hall where Charlie was to give his presentation. Once Charlie went into action preparing the room, Larry shook off any thoughts that something must be wrong. This was normal Charlie, frenetic energy and all.

The presentation was quintessential Charlie as well. Active and mobile on the stage with his wireless microphone, he was as animated as he always was when presenting on a topic he was passionate about.

Larry always enjoyed watching Charlie in front of a crowd. Whether it was students, peers or the general public, he was always entertaining and informative, energetic with his gestures and movements, drawing people in to his world.

Towards the end though, that energy seemed to fade drastically and Larry became certain something was amiss. Usually, Charlie was the most enthusiastic at the end of a lecture. Now it was clear to Larry that he'd come to the end of his reserve energy and was running on fumes. Larry worried he might not make it through Q and A.

"In conclusion..." Charlie returned to the podium to finish his speech and the hand he put on the lectern appeared to Larry to be holding him up rather than just casually laid there.

"The results have..." Charlie faltered and stopped speaking for a few seconds. He appeared to shake off whatever it was and started speaking again. "The results have been..." He stopped again and leaned heavily against the podium for support.

Larry became alarmed as he watched the young man sway on his feet. He rose and started towards the stage just a matter of seconds before Charlie crumpled to the floor. The crowd let out a collective gasp and Larry rushed to his side.

"Charles! Charles!" Larry got no response even after he shook Charlie. He pulled out his cell phone and called 911.

"Yes, I have a medical emergency at the Pasadena Convention Center. We're in Morgan Hall."

Larry could see that Charlie was breathing but he checked his pulse anyway. It was weak but steady.

"Stay with me, Charles. Stay with me..."


	4. Chapter 4

Tangential Planes 4/9

* * *

Chapter Four:

Thursday Afternoon

Charlie woke with a start. The same nightmare he'd been having for the last six weeks tore him from his sleep yet again; only this time he opened his eyes to find to the face of his older brother looking at him with concern.

"Hey buddy, you okay?"

"Don..." Charlie let himself relax, closing his eyes against the light.

Don waited for Charlie to open his eyes again and speak. When he didn't, he laid his hand on his brother's arm and gave it a little squeeze. He fought down a sickening feeling inside at how the arm felt like not much more than skin and bone.

"Charlie? Come on, open your eyes."

"Too bright..." Charlie mumbled.

Don got up, closed the blinds, and turned off the overhead lights, leaving the room only dimly lit with the light sneaking between the slats of the blinds across the room.

"That better?"

Charlie opened his eyes tentatively at first, then more fully. "Yeah, thanks."

Don sat down on the edge of Charlie's bed next to him.

"You gave me quite a scare, you know that?" Don said in a light but accusing tone.

"Dad, too," Charlie admitted. "Sorry."

Don looked at him for a moment. His skin was sallow and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. If Don had to describe his expression in a one word, it would be haunted.

"Charlie..." he began. "What's been going on? What project have you been working on that's so important?"

"Nothing."

"Charlie you never could keep a secret and you sure as hell can't lie, so come on, 'fess up."

"I've just been working a lot of hours, that's all."

"Charlie, you can't snow me, I'm your brother. I know you."

"Do you really?" Charlie asked.

Don felt a cold sinking feeling in his chest, knowing his brother had the same doubts he had.

"Okay, so I've been kind of busy with work lately but so have you apparently."

"Two different worlds," Charlie muttered.

Don sighed. "Charlie, no project is more important than your health."

Charlie fell silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was small and quiet. "This one is."

Don knew now the haunted look in his brother's eyes wasn't from the exhaustion. It was from the project.

"What is it, Charlie? Who are you working for and what are they having you do that's bothering you so much?"

Charlie paused again and it was obvious he was agonizing over his answer.

"I can't tell you," he said finally.

"Can't or won't?" Don asked.

"Can't." Charlie looked him straight in the eye that time and Don knew it was the truth.

"So Larry was right and what you're working on is classified at the highest level."

Charlie looked away again and in doing so, answered Don's question.

Don put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Charlie, I can't help you if you won't talk to me. I want to help. I want to be there for you. I'm sorry that I got so wrapped up in my work again that I didn't notice what was going on with you, but I'm here now. Let me help."

Charlie seemed ready to crumble for a moment, but then he took a breath and put up a façade of strength so feeble that Don could see right through it.

"I'm fine. I don't need any help."

Don took him by the shoulders and tried to get him to look him in the eye.

"Buddy, you are so not fine! You worked yourself into a state of exhaustion and collapsed in public. You are not fine and you do need help!"

Charlie glanced up at him but refused to hold Don's gaze.

Don pulled his hands back. "Can you imagine what it was like for Dad... for me? To know you were in trouble and not to be able to help you?"

Charlie obviously felt Don's words and was visibly troubled by them.

"Don... I didn't mean to... I just... This was really important..."

"More important than family?"

"Yes," Charlie said softly.

Don stared at him for a moment. "That's why you asked about your laptop first, isn't it? This project. You didn't ask for me, you asked for your laptop."

Charlie looked just sick over what that implied. "Don... I..." He looked desperate to explain himself but the pain and anguish that ran across his expressive face was enough for Don to realize he wasn't the only one that felt guilty about their recent actions.

The door opened suddenly and both men turned to look.

Alan walked in and came to a dead stop when he saw Don in the room.

"Dad!" Don stood up but his father made no move towards him.

"Don," Alan said a little coldly before turning to Charlie. "You're awake. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Dad, really. I just want to go home."

"Well according to Dr. Karol, if your labs come back in the acceptable range and you manage to eat a real dinner, he'll release you in the morning."

"That's great."

"Now, I have some things to do to get the house ready for you to be able to recuperate at home. I'm sure your brother won't mind staying with you while I'm gone."

Alan didn't even look at Don as he spoke but Don hastily agreed.

"Sure, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Fine," Alan said, still a little brusque in his manner. "Now Charlie, if you'll excuse us I need to speak to your brother outside for a moment."

Alan walked out of the room and, after sharing a glance with Charlie, Don followed him.

Alan was waiting for him a few doors down, just out of Charlie's hearing range, Don estimated.

"Dad, I'm sorry..." Don began but his father shut him down with a gesture.

"Don, I don't want to hear it. You made it quite clear by ignoring my phone calls where your priorities lie. Right now, I don't care. Your brother needs you and I need your help. If you aren't going to be able to stay with him until I return I need to know now."

"I can stay, really. I'm sorry I missed your calls. I never meant..."

"Don, you didn't miss my calls. You just saw that it was your old man calling again and assumed it wasn't important. Well, it was. I get a call that your baby brother is being rushed to the hospital, unconscious, god knows what's wrong with him. No Don. I'm here worrying about my son and all of a sudden, these men show up and confiscate his laptop. I try to stop them but they say they're with the NSA and here I am with a son who's also a federal agent and could really help with this but he's nowhere to be found. Your family needed you, Donald, and all I could get was your voicemail."

Alan stopped for a moment, fuming, but still in control. "An entire day passes and I hear nothing from you. I thought your mother and I raised you better than that. Obviously I was wrong."

Alan turned and walked away leaving Don with a twist in his gut and unspoken apologies on his lips.


	5. Chapter 5

Tangential Planes 5/9

* * *

Chapter Five:

Thursday Evening

Charlie woke with a start, wondering if he'd ever get used to waking up to nightmares.

He looked around the darkened room and almost didn't notice Don staring out the window.

"Don..." Charlie said his brother's name to get his attention.

"I have to call you back," Don said softly into his cell phone before shutting it and turning around.

"You're awake. Good. Dr. Karol came by and wanted to see about getting you to eat some dinner."

Don crossed the room and picked up the hospital phone. "Hi, this is Don Eppes calling from Charlie Eppes' room, number 206. Dr. Karol wanted me to let you know when Charlie woke up so he could try eating some dinner. Great. Thanks." He put down the phone and sat down in the chair next to Charlie's bed. "They'll bring you something by in a little while."

Charlie nodded then gestured to the cell phone. "Was that work? Do you need to get back to them?"

Don shook his head dismissively. "It's nothing."

Charlie sighed. "Isn't that how we ended up back here? Back how things were between us when you were in New Mexico? By not talking?"

"When I last checked you were the one not talking to me," Don grumbled. He paused and then sighed as well. "Look, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I know you can't talk to me about some of your consulting work but..." He stood up and paced the room, obviously upset. "Dr. Karol was here while you were asleep and he filled me in on your status. Charlie, did you know he wants you screened for Anorexia? That's a mental disorder, do you realize that? Your doctor thinks you might be mentally ill, what does that tell you?" Don's voice was rising in volume and pitch as he became more agitated. "You know I'm kind of inclined to agree with him. The way you've been acting, the fact you haven't been taking care of yourself... God, Charlie he says you've lost seventeen pounds since your last physical and that was only three months ago! I can't remember ever seeing you this skinny! When I first walked in and saw you earlier..." Don finally stopped pacing and shook his head. "You looked..." His voice was soft now. "You looked like those pictures they used to show us of concentration camp survivors. You looked like a living corpse."

Charlie swallowed hard, not sure what to say.

"You don't eat, you don't rest, you keep secrets from everyone around you..." Don came back to Charlie's bedside. "I felt guilty for leaving you, but now I see that while I was leaving you..." Don paused, momentarily unable to look Charlie in the eye. "You were leaving me too."

Charlie's eyes filled with unshed tears.

Don sat back down beside Charlie. "You tell me this project is more important than your health, than your family. I don't know what to say to that, Charlie. I can't even imagine what one man could do for the government that could be so critical and that no one else could do."

"Don," Charlie said softly. "It doesn't matter if you can't imagine it. It only matters that it's true. There isn't anyone exactly like me in the world, so while there are other math experts in the country there's a reason why I was tapped for this project. I just hope the work I managed to complete before this all happened was enough."

"Enough for what?"

Charlie looked away as if to remind Don that he couldn't answer those questions. After a moment, he spoke, but quietly. "I'm not anorexic."

"I'm not the one you have to convince," Don said.

"Fine. I'll do the screening. I'll eat what they put in front of me. I just want to go home."

In that moment, Charlie looked to Don very much like a little boy, not the grown man in whom the government was putting all its faith.


	6. Chapter 6

Tangential Planes 6/9

* * *

Chapter Six:

Friday Midday

"Okay, let's get you settled in!" Alan ushered Charlie into the living room and all but pushed him down on the couch.

"Dad!" Charlie tried to complain but his father silenced him with a glare.

"Don't you give me that face, my little boy. I swear if you give me a hard time I'll call Dr. Karol and tell him I'm sending you back in for a seventy-two hour psych eval."

"You wouldn't." If he wasn't already so pale, Alan might have noticed Charlie blanching at the idea.

"I had half a mind to let him do it in the first place, Charlie!" Alan said while walking back to the kitchen to make lunch. "I mean, what were you thinking." His voice floated back from the kitchen. "Well, obviously you weren't thinking or else you wouldn't have lost seventeen pounds!"

"He told you about that, huh?"

Alan walked back out of the kitchen, a can of soup in his hand. "Yes, Charlie, Dr. Karol told me everything. I'd warrant he told me quite a bit more than he told you since I actually bothered to ask him questions!"

"Dad, I'm fine. I just need some rest, that's all."

"And some food... Lots of it! Soup and sandwiches and fruit coming up."

"Can't I just have the sandwich?"

"No!" The answer came both from Alan and from Don who'd just walked in.

"Good to have some backup," Alan said to Don, sticking his head out of the kitchen long enough to greet his elder son.

"Don, I thought you had big meetings today," Charlie looked at his brother in surprise. "I didn't expect to see you until dinner tonight."

Don glanced back towards his father in the kitchen then turned back to answer Charlie. "Well I cut my morning meeting short so I could come over for lunch to make sure you made it home okay. I still have to go back for the afternoon one though."

Charlie merely nodded but Don could tell he was pleased that he'd come.

"Charlie, what do you want to drink with your lunch? Water?"

Charlie winced slightly but Don noticed it. "Don't we have any juice? The real stuff, not that from concentrate stuff."

"Sure, we've got real O.J."

"And that soup, is that condensed too?"

"What did you go from starving yourself to connoisseur overnight?" Alan laughed. "It's Anderson's Pea Soup, the kind you like, and it's heat-and-eat."

"Thanks, Pop."

Alan disappeared back into the kitchen. Don sat down next to Charlie on the couch and spoke to him in a low voice so Alan wouldn't hear them.

"Charlie, I want to talk to you about this project."

"Don, you know I can't..."

Don interrupted him. "You can't tell me any of the project details and that's fine. I understand that. What I want to hear is how this project affected you. That's not classified and you can certainly tell me that."

"I'm not sure how..."

"Charlie, I have faith that you can find a way. Please, just try.''

Charlie thought for a moment then nodded.

"When they first came to me..." he began slowly, "I... I freaked out. It was just so massive I guess and so critically important... I just felt like there was too much pressure on me. But they managed to convince me that if they gave the project to anyone else the odds were that they wouldn't do as good a job with it and the margin of error... I mean even a small mistake could mean..."

"I know the stakes, Charlie. Mistakes mean people's lives. Sometimes thousands of innocent people's lives."

Charlie nodded, his throat tight.

"So they convinced you you were the best man for the job and you took it on. I can understand the pressure you were under. What happened once you got started?"

"The time table... it, umm... escalated," Charlie could barely get the words out. "They thought I'd have plenty of time to, you know, figure out the answers. But suddenly I didn't and there was so much at stake..."

Don put a calming hand on Charlie's shoulder. Charlie dropped his head and let it hang, his curls obscuring Don's view of his troubled expression. Don noticed Alan coming out of the kitchen with the soup and Don waved him off out of Charlie's sight. Alan quickly figured out that the two brothers were talking and nodded his understanding to Don before disappearing back into the kitchen.

"What happened next?"

"I think I kind of got lost..." Charlie's voice could barely be heard with his head down and Don had to lean in closer to be sure to hear him. "I was so wrapped up in the project I just couldn't bring myself to take time out to sleep or eat. It felt like whenever I took a break... I could, I mean people could..."

"You were afraid any delay might result in more innocent lives lost. Charlie, I get that. Don't you think I feel that way in my work? You saw how bad that L.A. rapist case was for me! Whenever I wasn't out trying to catch that bastard, I imagined him kidnapping another woman. But Charlie, you can't feel that way. Bad things happen constantly in this world and working non-stop just exhausts you to the point where you can't be useful in the fight any longer. If anything, I would think you'd have learned that from your collapse!"

"I know... I just..."

Don shook his head. "If you had it all to do again you'd do it the same. I know, Charlie, I know."

"I just couldn't let all those people down, Don. I couldn't do it." Charlie looked up at Don, almost in tears.

Don pulled his brother into a strong embrace. "It's okay. I understand. And I'm going to help. Dad and I will help. You don't have to tell us anything okay? Just tell us you need our support and we'll take care of you while you take care of the world okay?"

"Okay," the small voice in his arms answered.


	7. Chapter 7

Tangential Planes 7/9

* * *

Chapter Seven:

Friday Afternoon

"Agent Eppes! Please come in."

"Deputy Director Carter. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

"Not a problem Agent. The government owes a great deal to the Eppes family. I'd hardly turn down such a fervent request, especially given the current circumstances."

"That's what I wanted to see you about, sir. I know my brother's work with the NSA is classified..."

Carter put up a hand to stop him. "And you've come to ask the NSA for clearance so you can find out about the project that landed your brother in the hospital. I understand, Agent, and I was ready for you. Actually, your brother was the one who was ready for you."

"Sir?" Don asked, confused.

"Four years ago when your brother's clearance levels were raised to those higher than your own he filed a request to have yours raised as well."

Don was even more confused now. "My brother, who is a civilian, filed a request to have a federal agent's clearance level raised? How could he do that?"

Carter smiled slightly. "By holding us hostage, apparently. He refused to do any further work unless we acceded to his demands. We managed to broker a compromise though. We reminded him that it took almost four years for his clearance to be raised to that level, what with background checks and such, and that we simply couldn't raise yours overnight even if you were already a government employee. So the agreement was made that we would make the attempt to expedite your approval if he would continue consulting for the NSA."

"So what changed? Why haven't I been given clearance yet?"

"Well there was a bit of a fine print in the agreement that even if you were given the clearance the information was still on a need to know basis. That meant the only way your clearance would be activated was if there was a compelling reason for you to know about Dr. Eppes' work with us."

"So is there a compelling reason now?"

"Yes," Carter explained. "It's your brother's life. I can't tell you how unnerved the upper brass were to learn of Dr. Eppes' hospitalization. Your brother is an asset to the country, Agent, and to the world. To risk losing him over a single project... Let's just say we never realized how precarious a position his consulting work put him in. We don't want to risk this sort of thing happening again. Therefore, I've gotten approval to activate your new clearance level. Your role in these projects, Agent Eppes, is to help insure the stability and health of our precious asset, a sentiment I think we both share. I've even arranged with the FBI to, shall we say, borrow you from time to time. If your brother is working on a critical project and is in danger of repeating himself..."

"You need me to step in and make sure he makes it through. That he can do the project for you without killing himself."

Carter sighed. "I was hoping to find a way to put it more delicately than that, but yes. We need him, so we need you to be there for him. As a man with a brother myself, I can think of no one better to entrust with this role."

Don nodded. "So you can tell me what this project is then? The one that's got him all in knots?"

"I can do better than tell you. Read for yourself." Carter handed Don a slim folder with an NSA seal on the cover. Don opened it and found only two pieces of paper inside: one a summary of the project and its outcome, and the second a map. He read the first paragraph and blanched.

"That explains why Charlie wouldn't drink any water," he muttered under his breath. He finished reading the summary and looked at the map. The page showed locations and rankings of fresh water sources in the contiguous United States.

"So you suspected terrorists were going to hit the country's fresh water supply."

"No, Agent Eppes. We knew. We had hard evidence prior to approaching Dr. Eppes. We knew what group was planning it; we had a good idea of their time frame and how they planned to introduce the toxins into the water sources. What we weren't able to get any intel on was which water sources they would target. With thousands and thousands of local water sources..."

"There'd be no way to protect them all sufficiently. You needed Charlie to rank them for you, to tell you which ones they would target and why."

Carter nodded. "We thought we had enough time for him to check his findings but intel came in that told us the timetable was moved up. We received his findings the night before his collapse but he had given us the results with the caveat that he hadn't finished checking them. We had one of our own mathematicians check his work and confirm its accuracy so we focused our resources on the top ranked targets. The top fifteen were given full coverage, which was the most manpower we could put on the scene without scaring the terrorists away. The top fifty were given strong coverage and the top five hundred were covered by local law enforcement."

"So he wasn't too late. He was worried that his work wasn't finished enough for you."

"Agent Eppes, not only was it finished enough, it was right on the money. Our field teams apprehended terrorists at twelve of the top fifteen sites last night. Each one of them had large amounts of toxic materials ready to contaminate the water supplies."

"A dozen sites?" Don could only imagine how many thousands of people in major metropolitan areas could be affected.

"On your map they are denoted by a small red dot. We haven't reprinted new maps yet to reflect the outcome of the operation but yes, twelve of the top fifteen locations marked on your map could have been affected if your brother hadn't assisted us."

Don looked back down at the map. The dots were all near major metropolitan areas: New York, Chicago, San Francisco, Seattle, Washington D.C., even Los Angeles.

"So now you know, Agent Eppes. You are now allowed to discuss any aspect of this case with your brother and any aspect of any future cases."

Don closed the folder and handed it back. "Thank you."

"As I said before," Carter smiled. "Thank your brother. If he hadn't made the request four years ago there's no way I'd be able to let you see this today."

"Still... Thank you."

Don stood and the two men shook hands.

"You won't regret this decision."

"No, Agent, I don't think we will."


	8. Chapter 8

Tangential Planes 8/9

* * *

Chapter Eight:

Friday Evening

"Charlie? You feeling up for a visitor?" Alan crouched down beside the couch where his son was laying, his eyes half closed. "It's Larry. I can tell him to come back this weekend if you need your rest right now."

"No, I'm good, Dad. Thanks." Charlie sat up a little and rubbed his eyes. "Tell Larry it's okay."

"You sure?" Alan arched his eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Charlie said, stifling a weary yawn. "Really, Pop. I promise I won't let him wear me out."

"Okay, then. I'll be in the kitchen. Yell if you need anything."

"Thanks."

Alan stood up and beckoned to Larry waiting near the front door.

Larry walked over cautiously, absentmindedly twisting his hat around and around in his hands in a nervous manner. Alan nodded to him silently as if to encourage him.

Alan left for the kitchen and Larry pulled up a chair next to the couch where he could face Charlie.

"Charles... I'm glad to see you conscious again. That was quite a finale at the conference. One I'm hopeful I won't be witness to ever again."

Charlie looked up into Larry's worried face. "I am truly sorry, Larry."

Larry waved off his apology kindly. "I understand better than you realize. You were under a great deal of pressure to finish that project you swore you weren't working on." When Charlie tried to interject, Larry simply waved him off again. "I know, I know, there was no project."

Charlie opened his mouth as if to protest but appeared uncertain what to say.

"Just relax. You haven't betrayed any government secrets, well not on purpose anyway. I may not match your genius but I am certainly far more of an expert on reading people than you, my friend. I've known for weeks that you were working on something classified at the highest levels."

Charlie put his head in his hands. "Don's right. I never could keep a secret."

"Now, now. Don't be so hard on yourself! You haven't told me anything specific so you're fine." Larry patted him on the knee. "Besides, your secret is safe with me. If you can't tell me, who can you tell?"

Charlie leaned back for a moment and closed his eyes. "Don. Don said I could tell him."

"Well, he's a federal agent. I'm sure his security clearance..."

"No, not about the project... My security clearance is higher than his so I can't even talk to him about it. Don said earlier... He said that I didn't have to talk about the projects I was working on. That I should talk about how they are affecting me and to ask for help even if I can't say why I need it."

"That sounds like very sage advice. Think you can follow it?"

Charlie looked at Larry with a questioning glance.

"Charles, I've been saying similar things to you for the last few weeks and I warrant your father has too. You've been shutting us out. I'm amazed Don got through to you but then again he didn't until after your collapse, am I right?"

Charlie just looked down rather than answer.

Larry laid his hand on Charlie's arm to get his attention. "Charles, your father and I, Don, Amita... We've all been there for you, waiting to help you, waiting for you to let us help you. You just never let us in. Don's right. We don't need to know what you are working on to be there for you in difficult times. I guess what I'm trying to say is you don't need to ask for help, you just need to realize that you've been closed to it and to start being open to it."

Charlie smiled, a bit bashfully. "Yeah, okay."

"That's what I like to hear! Perhaps we just need some sort of code word or phrase, like 'box of chocolates'."

"Box of chocolates?" Charlie asked.

"It's the phrase Hercules Poirot used with his sidekick Hastings, to remind him when he was particularly... shall we say, filled with hubris?"

Charlie laughed. "Seems appropriate enough. Box of chocolates it is."

A muffled ringing sound came from behind Charlie's pillow. He quickly silenced it, turning towards the kitchen to see if his father had caught him with the cell phone.

"Hello?" he said quietly.

Larry waited for him to start talking in case he needed to step away to give him some privacy. Instead, Charlie hung up the phone without another word.

"Larry, I'm sorry but I need to cut our visit short."

"Why? Who was on the phone?"

Charlie just looked at him for a moment and then said. "You just told me that you guys could support me without needing to know things, right? Well this is one of those times. Please, Larry. We can talk this weekend, okay?"

"Box of chocolates?"

"I'm good," Charlie chuckled. "Don't worry."

Larry stood up to go. "Call me tomorrow and let me know when you're feeling up for another visit, all right?"

"Will do," Charlie nodded.

Alan saw Larry at the front door and came out of the kitchen. "Leaving so soon?"

Larry turned back to look at Charlie. "Yes... Just ask your son what's going on."

Once he walked out Alan came over to Charlie and took the chair Larry had just vacated. "What's this all about?"

"Dad, Don told me that you and he would support me even if I couldn't tell you about my projects."

"Well of course! I don't need to know the details of the math problems you're working on. Heck, I couldn't understand them even if you did tell me about them!" he laughed.

"Well, this is one of those times. I need the house to myself for a little while. Can you do that for me? Give me a little privacy?"

"Leave you alone? Charlie, I just brought you back from the hospital! Are you kidding me?"

"No, Dad... Please."

Alan looked at his son carefully and could tell this was important. "I'll go do the grocery shopping then. Why don't you call my cell when you're done and it's time for me to come home?"

"That'd be great. Thanks, Dad. Really."

"Okay. No overexerting yourself while I'm gone!" Alan gave him a suspicious look but didn't ask anything further, merely grabbing his jacket and keys and heading out the door.

Alan saw Larry standing by his car at the curb and went over to talk to him. Before he could get a word out, a black sedan pulled up into the driveway. Two men in dark suits got out and headed for the house.

"What the..." Alan watched as Charlie opened the front door and wordlessly ushered the men inside.

"He got a call on his cell," Larry explained. "He didn't say anything but right afterwards he asked me to leave. I thought perhaps it might be them."

"Them?" Alan asked.

"Whichever alphabet group he's been working for these last few weeks." Larry pointed back towards the house and Alan turned to look. From where they were standing, they could see into the windows and watch, but not hear, Charlie's conversation with the men.

The men appeared to speak first and Charlie's expression erupted into one of extreme anguish. He covered his face with his hands for a moment as the men continued to speak and when he removed his hands there was still pain there but there was another expression as well: relief.


	9. Chapter 9

Tangential Planes 9/9

* * *

Chapter Nine:

Friday Night

Don opened the front door quietly, not sure if Charlie would be sleeping or not. His father's car was gone and the house sounded unusually silent.

He walked through the whole downstairs, even glancing into the backyard but there was no sign of Charlie.

Car missing... No Charlie... Don felt a knot forming in his gut as he wondered if his father had had to rush Charlie back to the hospital for some reason. He pulled out his cell phone and accidentally speed dialed Charlie's cell phone instead of his father's. He realized his error when he glanced at the phone's display but before he could hang up, he heard an answering ring coming from the stairwell.

Don bolted over to the stairs and saw Charlie crumpled over the risers halfway up.

"Charlie!"

Don dashed up the stairs, both phones forgotten.

Charlie was breathing steadily and his eyes were closed. Don felt for a pulse anyway, as if to reassure himself, and found it to be strong.

"Charlie? Charlie?" Don jostled him gently but he didn't respond. Don ran the rest of the way upstairs and grabbed the first aid kit from the bathroom. He fumbled through it as he went back down the stairs and found what he was looking for: an ammonia inhalant.

He broke the vial and waved the strongly scented inhalant under Charlie's nose. He stirred, eyes fluttering until he made a face at the smell.

"Charlie? You with me?" Don asked worriedly.

Charlie opened his eyes and looked around him, disoriented and woozy. "Don..."

"Yeah, buddy. Want to tell me what you're doing on the stairs?"

Charlie looked around confused for a moment and Don gave him time to clear his head.

"I... um... I wanted to go to bed. Lying on that couch all day... My back was starting to hurt. I must have gotten dizzy..."

"Let's get you to bed then," Don said, patiently. "Let me know when you're ready for me to help you up."

Charlie took a moment to take a few breaths then nodded.

Don slowly helped him to his feet, slipping Charlie's arm around his neck with one hand and holding him up by the waist with his other. They managed the remainder of the stairs one by one with Don bearing part of Charlie's weight to help him stay upright. He faltered briefly at the top of the stairs, his head falling to Don's shoulder as his knees started to give way.

"No, no! Come on Charlie! Breathe! You can do it!"

After a few seconds the weakness passed and Charlie was able to stand up again without Don holding him up. After a short rest, Don led Charlie the rest of the way to his bedroom.

Don kicked the partially open door the rest of the way open and turned sideways to get them both through the narrow doorway. He was glad to see the bed had already been cleared off and the covers pulled down. No doubt his father's doing.

He eased Charlie down onto the bed, pulled off his shoes for him and pulled the covers over him.

He sat on the edge of the bed and watched Charlie start to relax after the exertion of walking that short distance. The anguish Don had felt on the plane swelled up inside him again. Only two months ago his brother had been a vital and healthy young man who rode his bicycle and seemed to have boundless energy. Now he couldn't even make it up the stairs on his own.

Don closed his eyes. He ran through those two months in his head. When had he gone astray? What had he been so busy doing that he hadn't noticed the color gone from Charlie's cheeks or the weight dropping from his already small frame?

"Don?" Charlie's soft voice startled him out of his reverie. "Something's bothering you."

Don let out a little laugh. "That's the understatement of the year. Charlie, I just found you passed out on the stairs on the same day you got out of the hospital!"

"Yes, but that's not it, is it?" Charlie said, staring at Don intently.

"No," Don admitted, avoiding Charlie's eyes. Changing the subject quickly he said, "I had a meeting this afternoon. It was with the NSA."

Charlie's eyes grew wide but he didn't say anything.

Don turned back to look at him. "They told me everything. They raised my clearance level to match yours so that we could talk about your projects. So I know about you asking for my clearance level to be raised, I know that they couldn't activate it until now and Charlie, I know about the water."

Don couldn't read the expression on Charlie's face so he continued.

"They showed me the map and the rankings you calculated for them. They told me about the timetable getting accelerated and about the dozen locations from your top fifteen that would have been affected last night if you hadn't helped out."

Charlie nodded just barely. "They came here today to tell me. They only briefed me on the dozen last night, not about you."

"So you know now that you did get the work done in time and that it was exactly what they needed to stop the terrorists."

Charlie nodded again.

Don paused for a moment. "Dad is always telling me how you want my approval. You want to impress me, make me proud. I never had a big brother so I guess I never understood that."

"You can't understand why I'd try to make my big brother proud of me?" Charlie asked quietly.

"No," Don said thoughtfully. "I can't understand why you wouldn't realize that I already am proud."

Charlie looked a little choked up so Don laid a hand on his frail arm and gave it a squeeze.

"Charlie, I've always been proud of you. You've been blowing me away since we were kids. You just haven't seen it. At your college graduation, when you got your doctorate, when you got tenure... You saw how proud Mom and Dad were but not how proud I was. Before you started consulting with the FBI you were never around when I would brag to my coworkers about you. Some of them didn't really believe me about what you could do. As soon as you started working with us though you proved everything I said about you and then some. Man, it shut them right up. Now that whole office respects you. That's not easy respect to come by, you know. Every time you make some brilliant leap that helps solve a case I just... I'm just so amazed at you and so proud to have you as a brother."

Charlie was almost overwhelmed.

"Now this project, stopping the terrorists. Do you have any idea how major this is? This is the kind of thing they put in history books! A hundred years from now someone could be reading how Dr. Charles Eppes practically single-handedly prevented a massive domestic terrorist attack. You think I'm not proud? Charlie, I'm in awe of you!"

Charlie looked like he almost couldn't take anymore.

"But Charlie..." Don's tone grew serious. "It stops now."

Charlie's expression swiftly changed to one of bewilderment. "What?"

"No more. I know now how important this project was but you can't do this to yourself any longer. You can't almost self-destruct every time the government comes to you with an emergency or else you won't be there for them to come to in the future. Do you understand me?"

Charlie swallowed hard. "I do."

"Good!" Don said, a little too forcefully. "You scared the hell out of me, Charlie! Do you have any idea how I found out about you collapsing?"

"Dad called you," Charlie answered.

"No," Don shook his head. "I never got Dad's calls. I was off-site that day and none of my calls went through. I found out on the plane coming home. I found out by reading the newspaper."

"Don... I'm sorry... I didn't know..."

Don stood up and paced the room. "I'm sitting there just reading my email and I get one from an old college buddy who says 'hey, read about Charlie in the Times today, tell him to get well soon!' I freaked out. I combed that plane looking for someone who had a copy of that paper and when I finally saw it..." Don stood still for a moment. "I felt the same way I felt when Mom told me... when she told me she was sick..."

"Oh, Don..."

"Dad was so angry with me, you know? I mean we're cool now, but he was right. A whole day shouldn't have passed without me knowing." Don shook his head. "I've been wracking my brains! What happened that I drifted away, that I didn't notice what was going on with you?" He paused for a moment. "I keep thinking about what you said a while back about us being from two different worlds. I guess if I had to put it in math terms for you, it feels like we're parallel lines or something. Destined to be side by side but never meet, you know?"

"Well," Charlie finally found his voice. "First of all, I'd say we're planes and not lines but that's splitting hairs."

"Charlie, I didn't mean to start you on a math lecture!"

"Hold on!" Charlie got up and sat on the edge of the bed. "I was going to say we're not parallel planes at all."

"We're not?" Don looked at him, confused.

"No," Charlie explained. "We're tangential planes. Tangential planes meet at one point. We meet at one point."

"Well, we do now I guess, since you've started consulting with the FBI," Don shrugged.

Charlie shook his head. "No, Don. That's not it." He gestured around the room. "We meet here. This is where we connect."

"This house?" Don asked.

"This family," Charlie answered. "It doesn't matter where we go or what we do. We will always be brothers. Yes, sometimes we might get distracted by life but that doesn't change our connection. Besides, I'm just as guilty as you in this. You got caught up in work and I got caught up in the project."

"But no more, right?" Don said. "You're not going to try going it alone again are you?"

Charlie chuckled. "I don't think you guys will let me do it again! Larry's even got a code word system worked out just in case."

"So you'll let us help you? Dad, Larry, Amita..."

Charlie nodded. "And it will help that I can talk to you now. I don't have to keep it a secret and let it eat away at me."

Don was struck by those final words. "Eat... You were going to go to bed without eating dinner, weren't you? Nice try. I'm going to get you something to eat."

"Not right now, please? Don, come on... Stay..." Charlie called out to him as he headed for the door.

"No talking me out of this. Sorry, Charlie."

Charlie got up quickly and put a hand out to stop Don. The sudden movement made his head spin and instead of grabbing Don's arm, he almost tumbled into him as he started to fall. Strong arms reached out and caught him and Charlie felt himself being placed back into bed. As his vision cleared, he saw Don's worried face looking down at him.

"You caught me," Charlie mumbled.

"That's my job," Don said with a smile. "Now no more getting up. I'm not going anywhere, you hear me? Well, maybe to go get you a glass of water." Don stood up and headed for the door. "That sound okay to you, Charlie?"

Charlie smiled. "A glass of water sounds just fine."


End file.
